Breathing Life
by Peter James
Summary: Cursed to die since birth, all Akito can feel is bitterness and anger at the cards that fate has dealt him. But sometimes, in little moments when he recalls Tohru's words, he feels differently.


**Author's Note: Yay, I have written regarding Akito-san! ((waves flag)) He/she may be sadistic and cruel, but I have this odd affection... whenever I see him/her, I want to do what Tohru has not and kiss him/her to let him/her know that someone loves them. Why, oh why, is it that I must be cursed to love the villains? ((sigh)) Anyhow, this story in its entirety Apparated into my consciousness as I watched the final episode of the Fruits Basket anime this morning. I was afraid that Akito might come and throw something at me if I didn't obey. And so, here it is! The shortest thing I have written since I was four years old!**

**Rating: G. Contains nothing that should offend. (OMG... I wrote something rated G!!!)**

**Warnings: Very _slight_ homosexual implications, if you still consider Akito to be a man. If you are like me, and think of him/her as a He/She OR a woman, than disregard this warning. **

**And no, I do not mean to instigate that Hatori and Akito have any sort of romantic relationship. We know how Akito acts around a few select members of the Souma clan. ((scolds him/her and is attacked by rabid Head of Family and little white birds)) On with it!**

**Breathing Life**

The wind blew cold and sharp, shards of ice slicing across the tender skin of those who dared open a window to its presence. So cold, so relieving. The chill skated across my skin as I lay on the windowsill, claws of early-winter air raking through my hair and creeping into the spaces between fabric and skin. The leaves of the trees murmured like gossiping elders, with their hasty tongues and poisonous words concealed behind hands that never covered the truth of what they said. I would take ill again if I continued to expose myself to the Juunigatsu air, but I hardly cared. I was shivering, and it gave me a strange comfort. At times, I was afraid that I could not feel anymore. Those moments when I had hurt someone, thrown a fit and was exhausted by my actions, I would lie afterward on the smooth floorboards or on my bed and be numb. I was afraid to stop feeling. To be devoid of feeling is to be in the first stage of death.

"Akito-san... you are going to catch cold if you don't close that window."

"What does it mean, Hatori?" I asked softly.

He didn't answer, patiently waiting for me to elaborate.

"What does it mean, when you feel the cold wind dancing across your skin, and you shudder?"

"It means that your body temperature is being lowered to uncomfortable levels." The doctor replied.

I turned to smile at him, amused by his predictably scientific answer.

"Exactly. I'm cold."

Frowning, Hatori approached me hesitantly (as if worried that I might turn and throw a vase at his head again).

"If you are cold, come inside and shut the window. You'll surely be ill."

I shook my head, turning once more to gaze out at the gray sky.

"No. I enjoy being cold." I shivered, and hugged my thin form. "I'm alive Hatori. _That _is what it means."

_Right now, you're alive._ Yes, I was enduring. However long I would be thus was unsure, and the cold that I was sure to catch after this could very well be the end of me. But I wasn't dead yet.

Strange, how one girl... just an ugly, dull-witted girl, could touch something that... changed me. I was not thankful that I was still breathing. I was not happy. All the years of bitterness and the anger remained festering inside. And yet... was this a small sense of peace that I was feeling? Just a minute part of me that was comforted?

"I'm alive, Hatori. If only for a small measure of time."

Without shifting my eyes from the swaying trees, I reached for his hand. He allowed me to take it, though I felt him start in surprise when I touched him. Closing my eyes, I pressed his hand to my cheek. His skin was warm, and smelled faintly of cigarettes and chemicals. If I was still, I could feel the steady pulse of his heart against my cheek.

"You're alive too." I murmured.

"Yes." He answered.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him, still holding his hand to my face. He was watching me strangely, gray-green eyes clouded with some unfathomable emotion. I stood, lowering his hand but refusing to release it.

"Akito-"

"Shh." I whispered, pressing fingertips to his lips.

He obeyed.

Opening the curled fingers of the hand that I still held captive, I placed the open hand against my hip. Hatori blinked rapidly, the only sign that he was becoming slightly uncomfortable. Slowly, I slid my arms around his neck and nestled my head below his chin. The sound of his heartbeat filled my ears, and I listened hard for my own. Yes, there it was. Weaker than his, but there all the same, beating in time.

"We're both alive. Can't you hear it?" I murmured in his ear.

Hatori only nodded. Smiling, I pressed a soft kiss to the right-hand corner of his mouth.

"Alive."


End file.
